Spellbound

They can take their time, but once they begin, they can't take a letter back. Hyperactive Harry Altman battles with the word "banns" in Spellbound.

FILMSPELLBOUNDSelected release

Cephalalgia. Heleoplankton. Alegar. Darjeeling. There is something incantatory about the words that punctuate Spellbound, Jeffrey Blitz's utterly engaging, often moving documentary about an intensely competitive event, America's National Spelling Bee, in which 249 youthful finalists from all over the country converge on the capital for a one-mistake-and-you're-out challenge.

Blitz focuses on eight participants, finalists in the 1999 competition who come from all corners of the country, crossing racial and social divides. They include Angela, the daughter of Mexican immigrant parents who crossed the border illegally 20 years ago for a better life for their children, and regard her achievement as a vindication of their decision; hyperactive Harry, who jumps around like a puppy, and is a magnet for the Washington audience's attention every time he heads for the microphone; Ted, a country boy whose family raises peacocks, a laconic, somewhat isolated figure in his local school; Emily, a wry, comfortably-off Connecticut kid who practises her spelling and her riding; Ashley, a young black girl from the Washington projects, wistfully aware of her dreams and the way in which she feels different from her peers; and Nupur, who pushes herself, but is given extra impetus by a rivalry with three boys in her school.

Some parents are actively involved in the drilling and coaching of their children. Neil's father tests him ceaselessly and hires tutors to prepare him for words with origins from other languages; a family member in India has employed 1000 devotees to pray for his success during the Bee. But April, who has worn a dictionary to tatters with her constant study, is entirely self-taught: her mother and father look on in pleased bewilderment at what she's capable of.

Beyond the incantatory wonder of the words that it dangles in front of its young participants, the Bee is an unforgiving event. Contestants are given a word to spell. They can ask for a dictionary definition, the country of origin, a sentence using the word in context. They can take their time, but once they begin, they can't take a letter back. When they finish spelling out the word, they wait for the verdict - a bell, which tells them they've made a mistake, or silence, a disconcerting way of informing them that their answer is correct and that they're still in the contest. The final rounds are broadcast, and there's a fleeting moment of celebrity for the winner.

Blitz handles the contest carefully and sensitively: there are moments of extreme tension, as well as sudden disappointment and occasional absurdity, as participants are eliminated. But his focus is on the children, their aspirations and those of their parents. There is an idealising notion of the Bee as an emblem of an America where dedication is rewarded, irrespective of wealth or position. Yet the film doesn't labour this point: it seems to prize the individual qualities of its subjects - their idiosyncrasies, strengths and vulnerabilities - above all.